


AU Where Everything was Fine and Carol Showed Up Anyway

by Adolphus Longestaffe (adolphus_longestaffe)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain Marvel (2019), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone Is Alive, Gen, More characters to be added, Rating will change, civil war never happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolphus_longestaffe/pseuds/Adolphus%20Longestaffe
Summary: Former Director Fury shows up at Avengers HQ with an old friend.





	1. Rocket Pop

 

 

 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m still confused,” Steve said.

“I bet you’re used to that,” the blonde woman replied.

Steve couldn’t tell if her knowing smirk was meant in fun or mockery, so he frowned, just to be safe. Former Director Fury seemed to find this amusing, and very nearly smiled.

“Carol is just here to look everything over,” he said. “Let us know what we could be doing better, that kind of thing.”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re not in charge anymore,” Steve said. “And we don’t need an outside consultant to tell us how to run things.”

“The hell I’m not,” Fury laughed. “Check your contract, Captain Rogers. And Carol isn’t here to tell you how to run your team. She’s just going to help us ascertain where our potential weaknesses are. We don’t want to be caught with our pants down if something big happens.”

“I understand that, sir,” Steve persisted. “But what are her qualifications? What you’ve told me so far amounts to ‘this is Carol’.”

“That’s not enough?” the blonde woman said, with mock indignation. “Wow, Fury, I thought we were friends. It’s like you haven’t been gushing about how great I am at all.”

“Her qualifications are extensive military experience on and off-world, intimate knowledge of non-terrestrial combat tactics, and two thirds of a Kree Accuser fleet sent running home with its tail between its legs after she singlehandedly wiped out the other third,” Fury said. “If that’s not enough, she’s the reason the Avengers exist, and that you’re called Avengers at all.”

Steve frowned again. “What’s a Kree Accuser fleet?”

“Giant space ships that go around destroying planets,” Fury replied deadpan.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And she can fly and do all sorts of other cool shit, too.”

“You can fly?” Steve asked the blonde woman.

“Yep. It’s pretty neat,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

Her condescending attitude, playful or not, brought Steve’s defiant streak rushing to immediately the surface. His blue eyes sparked and his jaw set.

“If she’s the reason for the Avengers, why is this the first I’ve ever heard of her?” he demanded, turning back to Fury. “And if she’s so powerful, where has she been all this time, while we’ve been fighting off alien invasions and robot armies?”

“Those are fair questions, Cap,” Fury said. “But when I say she’s powerful, I’m not talking about like the Hulk. She wasn’t here for those things because they were below her pay-grade. She had bigger things to deal with.”

“Bigger things than the potential destruction of our entire planet?”

“This isn’t the only inhabited world in the galaxy,” Carol answered. “Many, many more would have been destroyed without my help. I’m sorry you guys had a hard time dealing with that stuff on your own, but the reason this organization exists is to make sure Earth doesn’t get blasted into a scorched ball of rock when I’m not here to defend it.”

“That’s right, ma’am,” Steve said curtly. “Defending Earth is my job. And I’ve been here every day, doing it honorably and to the best of my ability. I don’t need you or anyone else coming in here to tell me how to do it.”

Carol narrowed her eyes. “Did you just call me ma’am?”

“Was that…wrong?” Steve asked, confused.

“No, I liked it. Do it again.”

Steve’s ears suddenly felt hot. “I—I don’t…”

“I’m just fucking with you,” she laughed. “Do you take everything this seriously?”

“Do you take anything seriously?” Steve countered, crossing his arms.

“Situationally dependent. Look, I’m not here to step on your toes. I think Fury just wanted an excuse to show me all the cool spy shit he’s been doing, anyway. So, how about we call a truce and you give me the tour. I promise not to touch any of your stuff.”

“That’s a great idea,” Fury said, rising from his chair. “Cap, you show her what we’ve been working on. Introduce her to folks. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Steve asked, as he and Carol rose as well, in respectful military fashion.

“None of your business is where. See you later, Captains.”

“Later, Fury,” Carol called after him.

“Captains?” Steve said.

“That’s right. Captain Carol Danvers, US Air Force,” she said, holding out her hand.

Steve blinked. He had been unaware she’d served in the US armed forces, and this immediately altered his perception of her brash, cocky attitude. He’d been accustomed to it among hotshot fighter pilots back in his WWII days, but the connection hadn’t occurred to him.

“Captain Steve Rogers, US Army,” he said, shaking the proffered hand. “You were a pilot?”

“I was. You?”

“Uh. No. I was…”

Carol laughed again. “I know who you are, Rogers. I only grew up learning about you in every history class I ever took.”

“I guess I should’ve thought of that,” he said sheepishly, as they exited the briefing room.

“You really should have. Plus Fury told me your whole story before we got here. So, what are you like, a hundred years old now?”

“Yes. I am.”

“You’re in pretty good shape,” she said, looking him up and down. “You know. For a guy who died in 1945.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Anyone ever teach you to respect your elders, young lady?”

“Nah. Respect is something you gotta earn, old man. Where are we going first?”

Steve took her first to the command center, where he stood by awkwardly as she and Agent Hill, who she apparently already knew, chatted together. Carol glanced over and saw him looking extremely uncomfortable, at which she laughed, but she also courteously ended the conversation so they could move on. As they were crossing the courtyard toward the Ops Sector, Steve was relieved to see Bucky and Natasha, standing about ten yards from the entrance to the building, engaged in intense conversation.

“Well, hey there,” Carol said, noticing them too. “Who’s the hottie?”

“That’s Bucky,” Steve frowned.

“Bucky?” Carol asked, looking up at him dubiously. “Her name is Bucky?”

“No, I—she’s Natasha,” Steve stammered, flushing crimson. “I thought…listen, is there any way I get out of this without you mocking me mercilessly?”

“Aw. No, I’m afraid not,” she said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “You kind of have it coming for assuming I meant the male hottie, but especially for thinking I wouldn’t recognize Sergeant Barnes immediately.”

“You…recognize Bucky?”

“Yeah, duh. History class. Let’s go say hi.”

Steve sighed as she took his arm and pulled him toward his friends.

“Hey guys,” he said to Bucky and Natasha, who looked up and smiled as they approached. “This is Carol. Carol, this is Bucky and Nat. Natasha. Romanoff.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky and Nat Natasha Romanoff,” Carol said, shaking their politely extended hands.

“Carol?” Natasha asked, mystified.

Bucky appeared equally perplexed.

“Captain Carol Danvers, US Air Force,” Steve elaborated. “She’s here with former Director Fury. He brought her in as a consultant.”

“Air Force?” Bucky asked.

“Formerly,” Carol corrected. “Now I fly around the galaxy punching space ships till they explode.”

“You…what?” he said, looking back and forth between her and Steve.

“Oh, they’re all bad guys,” she said. “I’m actually from here. From Earth. Fury and I were friends back in the old days. I just do a lot of off-world work now.”

“Well, any friend of Nick Fury is a friend of mine,” Natasha said genially. “What brings you back here?”

“Fury’s been bugging me to come back and see what he built from the ideas he told me about, and I was finally able to get away. What do you guys do here? You have any cool powers?”

“Well, I’m a genetically enhanced former Soviet assassin,” Natasha said. “So is Bucky, but his augmentations are more like Steve’s. Aside from the arm.”

“Soviet assassin,” Carol said, looking at Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, the history books I grew up with said you were killed in action in World War II. I can see that you’re not dead, obviously, but…you were one of the Howling Commandos. A good guy. Weren’t you?”

“I was,” Bucky said, falling into the numb, expressionless cadence he used when talking about his past. “I didn’t die when I fell. I was taken by Hydra. They tortured and brainwashed me into a killing machine, and I spent seventy years as the most deadly assassin in the world. Then they sent me after my best friend. I woke up. Started remembering.”

“I’m sorry,” Carol said quietly. “I’ve had my brain taken apart and fucked with, too. It’s…horrible. And the Kree didn’t even torture me. They just erased who I was and used me as a weapon.”

“That’s what Hydra did to me. When I was the soldier, I wasn’t me anymore. I was just a tool for killing.”

“When your memories started coming back, did you ever get a feeling like…the world suddenly tilted and you were slipping sideways really fast?”

“Shit,” Bucky blinked. “All the time. Holy shit, I’ve never met anyone who’s been through something similar.”

“The worst part is that anxious feeling, you know? Like you forgot something important, and no matter how hard you try, you can never figure out what it was.”

“I know exactly what you mean. And it just gets worse when there’s something familiar. It actually starts to hurt, physically.”

“Yes. Christ,” Carol said, looking intently into his face. Then she appeared to come back to herself, and realize they’d been ignoring their companions. “I’m supposed to be getting the tour and meeting people, but we should talk more some time. I mean. If you’d want to.”

“I would,” Bucky nodded. “I’d like that, yes.”

“Why don’t the four of us have dinner tonight,” Natasha offered smoothly. “That way we can drink while we talk about our trauma.”

“I like the way you think, Red,” Carol replied, eyeing her approvingly. “What do you say, Rocket Pop?”

Steve looked up, realizing he was being addressed this way.

“Hang on, Rocket Pop?” he said indignantly, to the boundless amusement of his friends, who burst into laughter.

“Yeah,” Carol grinned. “Cause you’re red white and blue and you were frozen. Like a Rocket Pop.”

“Great. I thought Stark had already called me every iteration of frozen food imaginable, but of course there’s another one.”

“None of those could’ve been as good as Rocket Pop,” Carol smirked. “Which, by the way, is your name now.”

“Ok, fine,” Steve retorted. “You just…wait till I come up with one for you. See how you like it.”

“I’ll be on the edge of my seat. Come on, let’s get this boring work stuff done so we can have fun with my new friends.”

With that, she pivoted and strode off toward the Ops Sector, forcing Steve to trot after her.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Carol,” Natasha said, as they walked away. “Later, Rocket Pop.”

“Watch it, Romanoff,” Steve called back, over his shoulder. “I’m still your boss!”

 

 

 


	2. Special Agent Danvers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol is recruited into a top-secret mission.

 

 

 

 

 

“This is the Ops Sector,” Steve said, waving his hand to encompass the generality of the building. “Anything that has to do with deploying a team into the field happens here.”

“Cool,” Carol replied. “What’s your standard ready-time for an overseas strike? A small one. Say…ten-man team, single objective, full recon exposure.”

“Something that simple? I could have a unit in the air in two hours, including briefing and bathroom break.”

“Impressive,” Carol said, glancing around at the banks of monitors, which were being operated by a lot of agents who looked very busy and serious. “So you guys are pretty much on call twenty-four seven, then.”

“That’s right. We’re too busy to have much of a regular schedule. If we’re not training, we’re either on a mission or getting ready for one.”

“Must make it a tough to have a social life.”

“There are a lot of things that make it tough for us to have social lives,” Steve said, as they continued down the hall. “Most of us have life experience other people find it difficult to relate to, and we can’t talk about most of what we do anyway, so we just tend to…hang out together.”

“So, you guys are all friends?”

“Yeah, I’d say we’re all friends. Some people are closer with certain people than with others, just like any workplace.”

“Like you and Barnes.”

“Me and Barnes?”

“You’ve been friends since you were kids, right?”

“Yes,” Steve nodded. “We grew up together and fought in WWII together.”

“And?”

“And…what?”

“Well, according to him, he woke up from decades of brainwashing when Hydra sent him after you. It’s almost miraculous that you were able to make that much of an impact on his psyche. You guys must’ve been really close.”

“We were. We are.”

They continued on in silence for a moment, then Carol cast a sidelong glance at him.

“So, does he have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

“I—I don’t…think so,” Steve said clumsily, caught off-guard by the question.

“But you guys are really close,” Carol rejoined. “Wouldn’t you know?”

Steve took a breath to compose himself. “Sorry. I do know. He is unattached.”

Carol squinted up at him. “Hm.”

“Hm, what?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Well, when I asked who the hottie was, you said Bucky. Like, instantly.”

“So?”

“So, either you made a heterosexual assumption that I was inquiring regarding the member of the opposite sex present, or your brain automatically defaulted to your best friend as the more likely object of sexual attraction between the two options.” Steve stopped and stood there with his mouth opening and closing, till Carol laughed and patted his shoulder again. “You’re really easy to fuck with, Rogers. It’s not even fun.”

“Why do you keep doing it, then?” Steve said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“I lied. It actually is fun. Plus, you turn really adorable shades of pink.”

Steve sighed and shook his head dolefully. “You know what you are, Danvers? You’re a big bully, is what you are.”

“Please. I’m like, half your size.”

“Yeah, but you pack a lot of mean into that pint-sized body,” he grinned.

“You have no idea. I’m sorry for busting your balls, though. I promise I’ll try to be nice.”

“Nah, it’s ok. I can take it. But since we’re apologizing, I’m sorry for being an asshole to you before. It was a lot to process all at once.”

“I understand. I would’ve reacted the same way if someone showed up and wanted to tell me how to do the job I’d been doing for over a decade. But listen, Fury doesn’t think you need my help because you’re doing anything wrong. He’s…worried about something else.”

“Something like what?” Steve frowned.

“Something he wants to talk to you about himself. Sorry to be mysterious, but that’s all I can say.”

“That’s alright,” Steve said, pushing away his sudden feeling of disquiet. “We’ve, uh…got a lot more to get through, so we better keep moving anyway.”

After less than thrilling visits to Human Resources and Materiel Command, and a far more interesting and lengthy visit to the Airborne division, they found they’d run well into the dinner hour and would have to hold off on R&D and Biosciences until tomorrow. As they walked across the compound to Residential, Steve explained to Carol where to find the lounge, then excused himself to make his daily report and change out of his work clothing.

Carol bid him farewell and rode the elevator to the top floor in search of the lounge. She found the large, low-lit place pleasingly classy without being too stuffy, and also filled with people she didn’t recognize, seated at tables and along the bar. Undaunted, she strode purposefully up to the bar, ordered a scotch and soda, and prepared to wait for Captain Rogers.

When her drink arrived, she turned to have a look about, and immediately spotted the incongruously scruffy Sergeant Barnes among the clean-cut patrons. He was slouched in a corner booth near the back of the place, writing in a little, leather bound notebook, and looking very much as if he would prefer to be entirely invisible.

She watched him over the rim of her glass as he raked his fingers through his unruly hair, then picked up his drink in his metallic hand. He stared at it for a long beat before he raised it to his lips, then appeared to sigh when he set it down again. It occurred to her that this might be the most broken man she’d ever seen. His entire aspect bore the languid indifference of one crushed and beaten, far beyond exhaustion.

But she’d seen something else in those big, sad, green eyes, too. A spark of something that kept him clinging doggedly to life, even when the simple act of living left him so utterly overwhelmed. He looked up at that moment and their eyes met, so she flashed him a playful grin and sauntered over.

“You’re not very good at spying,” he said, stowing his notebook as she slid into the seat across from his. “I saw you come in and I saw you looking at me.”

“Well, subtlety isn’t really my forte,” she replied, unperturbed. “You just looked so pretty and sad, I didn’t want to spoil the picture.”

“That’s me,” he said flatly, raising his glass to his lips again. “Pretty and sad.”

She cocked her head to one side and studied his angular, eccentrically beautiful face. “Why are you so sad, Sergeant Barnes?”

“It’s just Bucky, please. I’m not a soldier anymore.”

“Bucky. Is that why you’re sad?”

“Is what why?”

“Because you were a soldier, and you’re not anymore.”

“No. I never wanted to be a soldier.”

“Seems odd to join the Army during a war if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well…I had my reasons.”

His voice remained level and his face expressionless, but she felt his walls snap up so hard, it was almost a physical sensation. Best take another approach.

“Didn’t we all,” she sighed, leaning back in her seat. “You know, they still weren’t letting women fly combat missions when I joined, and that was like, fifty years after your time.”

He shook his head. “Fucking military. Always as far behind the times as they can possibly be.”

“Tell me about it. Except when it comes to tech. If there’s a better, faster way of killing lots of people, they want it yesterday.”

“A lot of technology developed for warfare turned into things that were extremely beneficial for humanity overall, though. So I guess it’s a give and take.”

“You’re right. You’re a pretty impressive piece of warfare tech, yourself. And if you want to get technical about it, so am I.”

“Wow,” he blinked. “That was…a terrible joke.”

“Thank you. I’ve been fucking with Rogers all day, I’m on a roll.”

“Who’s fucking Rogers?” Natasha’s voice cut in, as she strolled up to the table. “Please tell me someone is. That man needs it badly.”

“Howdy, Red,” Carol said, slyly arching an eyebrow.

“Howdy,” Natasha said, mirroring the gesture.

“Hey, Nat,” Bucky said, scooting over to make room for her. “Carol was saying she’s been fucking with Steve all day. Which I kind of wish I’d seen, cause he’s been getting too big for his britches lately.”

“He’s been doing that since they turned him into a superior life form,” Natasha said. “So, what do you think of Captain America, Carol? Is he everything the war propaganda promised?”

“I like him,” Carol smiled. “He’s not as starchy and formal as he likes to pretend.”

“He’s really good at pretending, though.”

“He really is,” Carol laughed. “But he’s a good guy. There’s just something about him that makes me want to…knock him down and mess up his hair, you know?”

“I bet he’d like that,” Natasha said, picking up Bucky’s glass and sipping from it. She made a sour face. “What is this, water? Gross, soldat. You could at least have the decency to be drinking vodka.”

“I would have if I knew you were going to be the one drinking it,” Bucky retorted, taking it back. “Though, I probably should’ve expected that.”

“Apology accepted,” Natasha sighed. “I guess I’ll just go get my own drink, like some kind of wild animal.”

“Oh, no, let me,” Carol said. “I was about to get another one anyway. What’s your poison?”

“Monopolowa. Rocks,” Natasha said sweetly. “Thank you, Carol.”

While she was gone on her errand, Steve arrived, looking hurried and apologetic, and sat down in the booth across from Bucky and Natasha.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late,” he said, glancing about. “Where’s Danvers?”

“She’s at the bar getting me a drink, like a proper gentleman,” Natasha replied. “Where’ve you been?”

“It took forever to show her around and then I still had to write my report and change my clothes. Have you guys been waiting long?”

“I’ve been here for an hour, but I wasn’t waiting,” Bucky said. “And don’t let Nat give you shit. She just got here, herself.”

“Traitor,” Natasha grumbled. “Steve, your boyfriend’s drinking water again. It’s like his years as a Russian had no effect on him at all.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Steve replied irritably, then immediately regretted it for a cascade of reasons. “Sorry. I’m all on edge from having everything shaken up today. Bucky, what are you drinking water for?”

“Water is good for you,” Bucky said tranquilly. “Nat’s just fussy cause she likes to steal my drinks.”

“That is correct,” Natasha said. “So, Steve, what do you think of Carol?”

“She’s…good. Military background. Knows her stuff. Asks the right questions. And she’s a friend of former Director Fury, so I have no complaints.”

Natasha stared at him, then feigned a yawn. “Sorry, I dozed off halfway through that. What did you say?”

“What?” Steve said. “You asked what I thought of her and I told you.”

“Steve, I swear to god,” Natasha said, leaning forward and eyeing him fiercely. “If I don’t find a way to get your uptight ass laid soon, I am going to have to take matters into my own hands, and no one wants that.”

“Oh, god please don’t,” Steve said, at which Bucky burst out laughing.

Carol returned just in time to see Bucky in stitches, Steve looking terrified, and Natasha staring him down, but to entirely miss what had been said.

“Uh…what’s going on, guys?” she asked looking back and forth between them.

“Nat’s threatening to fuck Steve,” Bucky gasped through his laughter. “I think he pissed himself.”

“Wow, that’s your reaction, huh?” Carol shook her head as she sat down beside him. “You and I are very different people, Rogers.”

“Thanks for having my back on that one, Buck,” Steve said, glowering at him across the table.

Bucky raised his glass as if delivering a toast. “What are friends for?”

“Thank you for the drink, Carol,” Natasha smiled. “Steve was just telling us how pleasant and professional your interactions have been so far.”

“Really?” Carol asked. “Cause the way I remember it, he blushed about six times and called me a big bully.”

“She’s like, half your size,” Natasha said to Steve.

“That’s what I said! Then he told me I fit a lot of mean into my pint-sized body, which I feel was a personal attack, and I’m thinking about complaining to HR. You guys have an HR department, right?”

“You know we do,” Steve said. “I took you there. Like, two hours ago.”

“Oh, is that what that was? I kind of tune out when there are no weapons or cool jets to look at.”

“I knew you weren’t listening,” Steve said, narrowing his eyes. “You seemed way too interested in the repetitive stress injuries binder.”

“You caught me, Rocket Pop,” Carol shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to punish me.”

Steve’s face immediately did its impression of a tomato, and his friends offered support by way of hearty laughter. The conversation proceeded pleasantly, and after a while, they even remembered they had met with the goal of having dinner, and got hold of some menus. After they ordered their food, Carol rose from her seat, then paused.

“I was going to go find the restroom, but…um. Do women still do that thing where they go together?”

Natasha got up, as well. “We absolutely do. We’ll be back in a minute, boys.”

“Yeah, go,” Steve said, shooing them away. “We don’t need to hear about it.”

Once in the restroom, Carol went into one of the stalls, and Natasha stood by the sink, idly inspecting her reflection in the mirror.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you don’t have a purse I can snoop through while you do your lady business,” she sighed. “You’re no fun, Danvers.”

“I know, I know,” Carol called back from her stall. The toilet flushed and she came out to wash her hands. “I’m a terrible girl. I don’t even own a purse.”

Natasha waited for the noise from the hand dryer to stop. “Hey, listen. I’m on a kind of mission of my own, and I was wondering if you’d be interesting in joining the team.”

“Ooh, what’s the mission? And who’s on the team?”

“Just me. And you, if you’re in. The mission is a little thing I like to call operation get Steve laid before he has a stress aneurysm.”

Carol crossed her arms and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Ok, I’m in. But can we call it Operation Rocket Pop? I think that has a snappier sound.”

“See, this is why I asked you. You’ve been on the team for ten seconds and you’re already improving things.”

“I have a gift,” Carol shrugged. “You have a plan?”

“I do.”

“Wait, I bet I know what it is. Is it kidnapping him and Barnes and locking them up in a room together till they fuck? Cause I’m way ahead of you.”

Natasha stood there looking stunned for a moment. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m an idiot. Holy fucking shit, how did I not put this together!”

“How did…what?” Carol asked, bewildered.

“It’s been Bucky all along!” Natasha exclaimed. “That’s why Steve acts like an asexual combat android! He’s in love with his best friend and he’s too…hundred-year-old military guy to admit it!”

“Wow, you really just figured that out? I knew it the minute I saw them together. Not in person, either. I mean in that archive footage from 1945.”

Natasha turned to her new friend and laid a hand on her heart. “Carol…how have I gone this long without you in my life? I honestly don’t know.”

“I don’t know either. It seems kind of rude of you not to have been wasting away without me all these years.”

“I mean, I didn’t know you existed until today, so…”

“Yeah, but I feel like you should’ve sensed it somehow.”

“Well, you got me there. I apologize for not being attuned to your being.”

“I forgive you. This time.”

“We better get back or they might actually notice we’re gone. You want to come to my place after dinner and talk mission details?”

“Absolutely, boss,” Carol said, with a brisk nod.

“Outstanding, Special Agent Danvers. Operation Rocket Pop is a go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Intel and Resources

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has a serious meeting to lay out their operations strategy...sort of.

 

 

 

 

 

“You know what we need? One of those big whiteboards to brainstorm our ideas.”

“That might be excessive,” Carol smirked. “It’s Rogers and Barnes. How difficult could they be?”

“Sweet, innocent Carol,” Natasha said, flopping onto the sofa. “Steve and Bucky are the two most difficult, stubborn…difficult men I’ve ever met. And that’s including Fury and Stark.”

“I think you’re drunk, Agent Romanoff,” Carol laughed, seating herself on the arm of the sofa, since her companion was occupying the entirety of the seat.

“I am, Carol, thank you for noticing,” Natasha said, attempting not to slur her words. “Listen. Are you listening?”

“You have my undivided attention.”

“Steve and Bucky are like…they’re like…a couple of puppies running into a sliding-glass door. But they’re so fucking stubborn. If they want to keep running into that glass door, over and over, they’re gonna do it. No matter how hard you might try to stop them or point them to open side, they’ll just keep plowing into it and bonking their noses. They’re like…nuclear-powered super-puppies. Made of stubbornness and…hair.”

“Nuclear-powered super-puppies? Awwww. You love them.”

“I do,” Natasha sighed, dramatically laying a hand on her forehead. “I love those idiots. Don’t even think about telling anyone, though, cause I’ll deny it. Got it, Danvers?”

“My lips are sealed. But, uh…maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”

“No, no, I’ll be ok in a few minutes. My metabolism processes toxins too quickly for me to stay drunk long.”

“You sure?” Carol asked doubtfully.

“Absolutely,” Natasha insisted, sitting up again. “Let’s talk strategy.”

“You’re the boss. Let’s see…I’m operating from the premise that we can’t actually kidnap them. I mean, we _could_ , but we shouldn’t.”

“Right,” Natasha nodded. “Unless we have to.”

“Ok, we’ll put a pin in kidnapping and call that our failsafe. First thing we need to do is to inventory our resources and intel.”

“Inventory, yes,” Natasha agreed. “Hang on, I’m gonna get stuff to write with.”

“Good idea,” Carol laughed, as she hopped up and trotted down the hall, then returned carrying a yellow legal pad and a red sharpie.

“This is all I could find,” she explained sheepishly, as she returned to her seat on the sofa. “It’s no whiteboard but it’ll do.”

“As long as I’m not the one writing stuff down. My handwriting makes me look like a drunk doctor.”

Natasha labelled the top of the page ‘Operation Rocket Pop’, then added the words ‘resources’ and ‘intel’ below that, with a vertical line between them to make two columns.

“Ok. Hit me,” she said.

“Our intel includes intimate knowledge of the targets—that’s you—and our primary resource so far is access to the targets,” Carol said. “That’s both of us, since I have a reason to hang around with Rogers for a while, and you work with them already.”

“Got it,” Natasha said, noting these things on her paper.

“Those are pretty limited resources for a frontal assault,” Carol continued. “So, I say we do a little more recon before we decide our next move.”

“Agreed. Divide and conquer? You take Rogers and I’ll take Barnes?”

“Initially, but it’s plausible that they’ll catch on if we come at them too directly, so we should switch up sometimes. Oh, and we need to observe them interacting, too. I’m thinking we arrange some activities for the four of us. Preferably off-post, without a bunch of work people hanging around.”

“Good thinking. What kind of activities?”

“That’s all you, Red. You know the targets, so I’ll count on you to devise situations in which we can observe them at ease. Or under stress. Which might be better, actually. People reveal a lot more than they think when their adrenaline is up and their minds are occupied.”

Natasha looked up at her with an arched eyebrow. “Ooh, Danvers. I like when you talk espionage to me.”

“I sound pretty cool, right?” Carol said, with an exaggerated toss of her blonde hair. “Like I know what I’m talking about and everything.”

“You do. I almost mistook you for a real-life KGB asset.”

“Aw, come on,” Carol grinned. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the ones who deserve it,” Natasha winked. “Question: what if they get wise to us and blow the op? It’s easy to forget, but they’re not actually morons. Barnes in particular. He was a world-class infiltrator and assassin in his previous occupation.”

“So I hear,” Carol said. “You’re pretty close with him, correct?”

“Correct. Well, correct- _ish_. We’re friends now, but we sort of knew each other professionally. A long time ago.”

Carol frowned. “A long time ago?”

“Yeah,” Natasha nodded, keeping her eyes on the legal pad. “He and I were employed by the same people at the same time. It’s…complicated.”

Seeing that this topic was highly uncomfortable for her friend, Carol decided it was best to back off and change tracks for the moment. “I’m flying blind with Rogers, so anything you can give me on him will help. I mean, anything but the boring stuff they put in the history books.”

“Oh, Steve,” Natasha laughed, leaning back on the sofa. “He is…quite a piece of work. First of all, don’t be fooled for a second by that ‘I’m an old man’ routine. He’s a hundred years old, but he was frozen in that jet for about seventy of those, so he’s not actually much older than he was when he went under.”

“Yeah, I figured that out pretty quick. He says he’s an old man, but he’s got a young man’s mind.”

“He does. Which means he’s aggressive, quick to make judgements, and prone to let his emotions do the thinking. But don’t underestimate him, either. His brain can process a multitude of unrelated inputs at once, which makes him a formidable strategist and battlefield tactician. That also means that Steve’s snap-judgements are better than most people’s carefully considered hypotheses, and his emotions don’t often lead him wrong.”

“Got it,” Carol nodded. “So, if Rogers says ‘I have a bad feeling about this’, then look out for Darth Vader.”

“You fucking nerd,” Natasha laughed. “I meant that he is a goddamned bloodhound for malicious intentions.”

“I can see that, actually,” Carol said musingly. “I bet he uses that sweet, earnest, ‘I’m literally a huge golden retriever’ thing to his advantage.”

“I mean, that does work to his advantage, but it’s a hundred percent real. The golden retriever just happens to coexist with the attack dog. He’s pretty amazing.”

“You know, I’m starting to think _you_ might be the one who’s in love with him.”

“Maybe a little, but everyone’s a little bit in love with Steve,” Natasha shrugged. “He’s Captain fucking America.”

“I’m not, but I barely know him. I’ll keep you updated.” Carol bit her lip and squinted. “Though, if I had to fall for one of them, I think I’d pick Barnes. Just to be contrary.”

“Ah, yes. The silent, brooding vagabond with a dark past and big green eyes. That your type, Danvers?”

“Eh, kind of,” she shrugged. “Vagabond with a dark past? Sign me up. The silent, brooding thing? Not so much. I like a little fire in the belly. I am a sucker for big green eyes, though.”

“Well, two out of three ain’t bad. Maybe Bucky’s got a chance with you. You know, if Operation Rocket Pop is a spectacular failure.”

“Which it won’t be,” Carol said resolutely. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because we are awesome.”

“You know what’s weird? I was just going to say that.”

“That’s not weird. We’re awesome as fuck. The sooner you accept it, the better it’ll be for the whole team, Romanoff.”

“I accept it. We are awesome as fuck. Go team…huh.” Natasha paused. “We don’t have a cool team name yet.”

“Oh shit!” Carol said, aghast. “We can’t go around without a cool team name, Red! What will all the other spy teams say?”

“They’ll say we’re amateurs, is what! We’ll be the laughingstocks of the clandestine world.”

“Well, this obviously has to be remedied before we commence operations.”

“Agreed,” Natasha said, flipping to a new page on her legal pad, then another, since the ink had bled through. “Operation Rocket Pop on hold. Commencing Operation Team Name.”

“Criteria,” Carol said, linking her arms behind her back and pacing, after the manner of a general in a war film. “One. Must reflect our collective awesomeness.”

“Awesomeness,” Natasha echoed, as she wrote.

“Two. Must sound badass.”

“Badass. Got it.”

Carol paused to look down at the paper. “Addendum. Not so badass that it sounds like an actual bad-guy team name. We don’t want to cause confusion.”

“Not _too_ badass,” Natasha said and wrote.

“Excellent,” Carol nodded, resuming her pacing. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be something that sounds totally boss and in some way describes our core values.”

“Core values,” Natasha repeated, then looked up. “Which are?”

“Awesomeness and badassery. And justice.”

“Awesomeness…badassery…justice. Got it.”

“Ideas. Some combination of our code-names. Some combination of our real names, but in a badass sounding way.”

“Uh, maybe,” Natasha interjected. “But that’s gonna sound more like a ship name than a team name.”

“Really? Wow, I have been gone a long time. When I was on Earth last they were still naming ships things like Pennsylvania and Independence.”

“Oh no, I meant…you know what? Nevermind. Name combos. Got it.”

“Hey, what is your code name, anyway? I never asked.”

Natasha hesitated. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I make no such promise. Spill.”

“Black Widow.”

“Black Widow!” Carol exclaimed, unable to stifle a laugh. “Wow, Romanoff. That sure is something.”

“I didn’t come up with it myself, Danvers, you asshole. What’s your code name, Captain Awesome?”

“Oh god, you’re so close it’s actually scary. It’s Captain _Marvel_.”

“Captain fucking—Marvel!” Natasha said, gasping with laughter. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna pee!”

“It makes sense in context, Black Widow!” Carol defended, still laughing.

“What’s the context? You’re so amazing you can’t possibly be contained by a lesser word?”

“Well, I’m gonna say that’s what it is, now. But it was the name of someone who was a hero to me. I picked it to honor her.”

“Ok, that’s actually a really good reason,” Natasha conceded. “I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you approve.”

“I do, and you’re welcome. I think that shuts down the combined code names idea, though. Unless we want our team to be called the Black Marvels or the Captain Widows.”

“Yeah, those sound like seventies band names.” Carol tapped her chin with the tip of one finger. “Let me think…” 

“You know, we’re ignoring the obvious solution, here, Danvers,” Natasha said, after a moment.

“Which is?”

“Which is that if we call ourselves anything but Team Top-Gun, we’re basically war criminals.”

Carol turned and looked at her fiercely. “Romanoff, you magnificent bastard. How dare you think of that before I did.”

“I can’t help it if I’m the brains of the operation,” Natasha retorted. “What’re you gonna do about it, blondie?”

“I dunno, but it’ll be extreme. I’m a couple shots of Cuervo away from proposing, as it is.”

“Note to self: purchase bottle of tequila, become trophy wife,” Natasha muttered, pretending to make a note on the legal pad. “I take it that means Team Top-Gun is official?”

“Official as fuck, boss,” Carol said, with a deep yawn. “Sorry about that. Long day. Let’s lay out our strategy for tomorrow before I turn into a pumpkin.”

“Pretty straightforward recon op. You hang with Rogers, I’ll hang with Barnes. Spend the morning gathering intel, and reconvene for debriefing at lunch?”

“Perfect,” Carol said, as Natasha walked her to the door. “Oh, and decide where we want to take them off-post. I assume their schedules will be open?”

“They will be by tomorrow afternoon. I hear someone on Team Top-Gun knows how to hack to the scheduling system.”

“You’re a pretty slick customer, Red,” Carol said, eyeing her cagily. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“I do what I can,” Natasha grinned. “Night, Captain Marvel.”

“Night, Black Widow. See you tomorrow.”

Natasha stood looking after her for a moment as she strode off down the hall, then she smiled an odd little smile to herself, and closed the door.

 

 

 

 


	4. Divide and Conquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recon phase of Operation Rocket Pop commences.

 

 

 

 

Early the next morning, Natasha departed her quarters to commence the recon stage of Operation Rocket Pop. A quick scan of the access logs located Bucky in the training gym, so she headed that way. She found him situated on the mats on one side of the room doing pushups. His long hair was pulled back and secured with a black rubber band, and he wore a black sleeveless shirt, black pants, and black boots—because perish the thought he might be seen in anything resembling an actual color, even at the gym.

“Privyet, soldat,” she said, as she approached.

“Privyet, Natechka,” Bucky replied, without pausing his exercise. “Chto novogo?”

“Nichyego. What are you doing?”

“Exercising. What are you doing?”

“Looking for you. Carol and Steve are off doing official stuff and I’m bored.”

“You’re bored,” he said, pausing at the top of a rep to look up at her. “So…you came to hang around and watch me do pushups?”

“Yep. Want me to lay on your back?”

He bent his arms to lower his chest parallel to the floor. “Yes.”

Natasha slipped off her shoes and sat on the small of his back, placing her feet on his calves for balance, then laid down face-up, with her head resting at the back of his neck.

“Just don’t wiggle around, ok?” he said.

“Give me a break, soldat,” she retorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Yeah, I know, and you used to wiggle around a lot when you did this.”

“That was a long time ago. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You are to me,” he said, as he began the exercise again.

She laid there looking at the ceiling, feeling his back and shoulder muscles move beneath her, as he raised and lowered the rigid plane of his body with smooth, machinelike regularity.

“You’re leading with your left arm,” she said, after a moment.

“I’m not leading with it, it’s just not enough weight. I can barely feel it.”

“Do them one-handed.”

“I can’t do them one-handed with you on my back. Where will I put my left arm?”

“I’ll hold it.”

He lowered himself and pushed up a few times before he answered. “No. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“Maybe I should sit up. Put more weight on your upper back.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna make much of a difference. You weigh like, four pounds.”

“I bet Steve’s heavy enough.”

“What?”

“I’m not heavy enough to make a difference. I bet Steve is. He must weigh like, two-twenty.”

“Two-sixty,” Bucky corrected, at the top of another rep.

“Christ, where?”

“Our augmentations came with increased bone and tissue density. We both weigh a fuckload more than we look like we should.”

“How much do you weigh?”

“Three hundred. But forty-six of it’s the arm.”

“So…”

“So, what?”

“So, have Steve lay on your back.”

“Ok, sure,” he said drily. “Whatever you say.”

“Why not?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Natechka, I know you like to climb all over me like an annoying kid sister, but Steve and I don’t even hug each other. He is certainly not going to lay on my back while I do pushups.”

“I’m gonna start wiggling around if you call me a kid again.”

“Ok, you’re not a kid. You’re just the size of one—ow, stop! It was a joke!”

This exclamation was in response to Natasha jabbing his ribs with both elbows, which she continued to do, till he abruptly tilted his body and sent her sprawling sideways onto the mats.

“You dick!” she laughed, as he hopped to his feet.

“You started it, you little shit,” he said, holding out a hand to pull her up. “You are such a pain in the ass.”

“I know. That’s why you like me.”

“I never said I liked you.”

“You don’t have to. It just radiates out of you. Like sunshine.”

“Yeah, I’m a ray of fucking sunshine,” he said, looking about as far from it as humanly possible.

“You are to me,” she grinned. “What are we doing next, sunshine?”

“Firing range?”

“Now you’re speaking my language. Let’s go put some holes in things.”

She slipped her shoes back on and the two exited the training gym, bound for the ballistics range across the compound.

“Do you and Steve really not even hug each other?” she asked, as they walked along.

“No. Why would we?”

“Human beings who are close usually demonstrate physical affection by hugging.”

“Uh, in case you haven’t noticed, no human beings come anywhere near me but you, let alone hug me.”

“Yeah, cause I’m not scared of you. Steve’s not, either. You should be able to hug each other.”

“Well…Steve and I are men. Men aren’t touchy that way.”

“Oh, bullshit,” she scoffed. “Men hug each other all the time, soldat. It’s not the 1940s anymore.”

“It may as well be,” he muttered, under his breath.

“What do you mean, it may as well be?” she frowned.

“I mean it may not be the 1940s out here, but it is in Steve’s head. He’s just…a traditional kind of man. He always has been, and he always will be.”

“Does that mean you’re not a traditional kind of man?”

“I’m not a traditional kind of anything. I’m not even—” he broke off and looked away across the courtyard.

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not even a man anymore,” he sighed. “I’m just an old, broken weapon who wakes up screaming sometimes because his enhanced brain forces him to remember the faces of every single human being he murdered.”

“The thing they made you into is not what you are. You’re my friend. You’re Steve’s friend. I was with him through all of that, you know. When they sent you after him. He would have let the whole world burn, just to get you back. He almost did.”

“He wanted his friend back. I’m not the Bucky Steve remembers. I spent most of my life in a freezer, with little breaks here and there to be tortured and forced to kill people. I’m nothing but a walking reminder to him of what was done to me. Of what I’ve done.”

“That’s not true,” she said, stopping and turning to look up into his face. “He stood up to SHIELD, Hydra, Stark, and the entire United Nations for you. He never once faltered in his absolute conviction that you were still you. And now you’re saying he doesn’t love you just as much as the day he lost you the first time? Get your head out of your fucking ass, soldat, because he does.”

“No. The twenty-eight year-old kid who still believed the good guys always win died that day. I’m too far gone and he knows it. He can hardly…he can hardly even look at me now.”

“He cares about you more than he cares about his own life,” Natasha insisted. “If he can’t look at you, it’s because he’s trying to spare you from his feelings. He doesn’t want you taking more guilt on yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he said numbly. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You do know, and I am right.”

Bucky stood there staring at the ground for a long moment. “Yeah, well…that still doesn’t mean he’d hug me.”

“Then don’t give him a choice,” Natasha said. “Next time you see him, just grab him and hug him.”

“No thanks. I’d rather not be punched in the face by Captain America today.”

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “He wouldn’t actually punch you.”

“He would. We used to brawl together a lot. If I put my arms around him all the sudden, he’d assume it was an attack.”

“So, knock him down and pin him first.”

“Wait a minute,” Bucky said, eyeing her suspiciously. “I see what you’re up to. You just want to watch us wrestle around and get all sweaty together.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow. “You know, now that you mention it…”

“I knew it,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re a sick sex-pervert, Romanova.”

“Guilty as charged. Does that mean you’ll do it?”

He squinted at her for a beat, then turned and continued walking. “We’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

 

Steve arrived in the briefing room to find Carol already there, lounging in a chair with her feet on another one, drinking coffee from a white to-go cup. He eyed her well-weathered, leather bomber jacket with a touch of envy, keenly aware that he had never looked so effortlessly cool in his life.

She grinned up at him as he approached the table. “Morning, Rogers.”

“Morning, Danvers,” he replied briskly. “You look comfortable.”

“Not as comfortable as you. Where do I get an outfit like that?”

“It’s not an outfit, it’s a stealth suit,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Why are you wearing a stealth suit? In case you need to sneak away from me?”

“I have to be in uniform when I address the staff officially. This one is…practical.”

“Uh huh,” she smirked. “And I’m sure the fact that you look fucking killer in it had nothing to do with it.”

“That wasn’t—I don’t know what you mean,” he said, inwardly cursing his rapidly reddening face.

“Wow, I got you to blush within a minute,” she laughed. “That’s gonna be a hard record to beat.”

“This is systematic bullying,” Steve grumbled. “And get your feet off that chair. Are you living in a high school movie?”

Maintaining his gaze, Carol pulled her feet out of the chair and placed them directly on the table, then crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes defiantly. Steve looked down at the papers in front of him, forced to quickly stifle a laugh.

“Ha!” Carol said triumphantly. “Made you smile, Rogers! I am on fire today.”

“God damn it, Danvers,” he sighed. “You’re a rascal and a ne’er-do-well.”

“I like to think of myself as more of a lovable rebel,” she said, putting her feet on the floor and sitting up. “So, what’s on the agenda? I’m totally amped for my first Avengers meeting.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but it’s nothing exciting. We’re just introducing you to the rest of the team and doing a quick check-in. I take it Fury isn’t going to be back today?”

“Nope. He called earlier, though. He said to let you know all is well and he’ll be a couple more days.”

“And I guess you’re not going to tell me where he is, or what he’s doing.”

“Nope.”

“Of course not. I’m only the one in charge, here, why would anyone tell me anything?”

“Sorry, Rogers, it’s not my call. Fury likes to do things his way.”

“I know. I don’t blame you. I’m just frustrated with him for dropping you off and vanishing, and leaving me pretty much in the dark about what he’s up to.”

At that moment, the doors opened, and people began to file in and take their seats for the briefing.

“Where’s Red and Barnes?” Carol whispered to Steve.

“Nat has the day off,” he answered, in an undertone. “Bucky isn’t required to attend staff meetings.”

“Why not?”

“He’s not officially on staff. Technically he’s…in our custody.”

“Wow. You’ll have to tell me about that later.”

“I will,” Steve said, then he raised his voice to address the room. “Morning, everyone. I’d like to introduce you all to Captain Carol Danvers, code name Captain Marvel. Her file is in the personnel system, which you may peruse at your leisure. For now, just be aware that she is here as a consultant under the authority of former Director Fury, and should be accorded all the respect and courtesy due to any member of the team.”

There was a chorus of polite greetings, along with a few confused expressions.

“Captain Danvers, this is the team. Some of us, anyway,” Steve continued. He indicated to each agent as he introduced them. “Agent Maria Hill, you already know. Sam Wilson, code name Falcon, airborne strike and support. Wanda Maximoff, code name Scarlet Witch, psionic energy manipulation and telepathy specialist. Vision, he…floats and shoots laser beams out of his forehead. Peter Pa—” Steve broke off, blinking. “Parker, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you in school?”

“Oh—uh, hi Captain Rogers,” the flustered-looking teenaged boy answered. “I’m on spring break. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes said if I got straight A’s this semester, they’d do some training with me.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Did you get straight A’s? Even in your AP classes?”

“Yes, sir,” Parker nodded dutifully.

“What’s your GPA?”

“Five-point-o, sir.”

“You have any homework?”

“I got it all done before I came, sir.”

“Good,” Steve nodded. “School is still your top priority. Wilson, I expect you to keep an eye on him while he’s here. Don’t let him get into any trouble.”

“You got it, Cap,” Sam replied, with a serious nod, followed by a wink at Parker.

“Alright, that just leaves check-ins and we can get out of here,” Steve said, addressing the group again. “Agent Hill, you’re up.”

When the rather dull check-ins were completed, Steve called an end to the meeting, and people began to file out again, chatting amongst themselves, and some casting curious glances at Carol as they passed.

“That’s everyone who’s going to be around, for now,” Steve explained, as he and Carol rose to follow the others out. “Barton and Stark are semi-retired, Colonel Rhodes is at a conference with the Joint Chiefs in Washington, Banner is overseeing a project on vibranium fusion in Wakanda, and Thor doesn’t come to meetings, anyway. He just kind of shows up when he feels like it.”

“Thor?” Carol asked.

“Thor Odinsson. Asgardian. God of Thunder.”

“Oh, _the_ Thor. Cool,” she nodded. “So, you were going to explain to me why Sergeant Barnes is technically in your custody?”

“It was part of our agreement with the UN. After Hydra’s files on him were reviewed, and he was subjected to thorough neurological and psychological evaluations, he was deemed to have been a victim of an extraordinary and extreme form of brainwashing, and thus not culpable for his actions as the Winter Soldier.”

“If they found that he wasn’t culpable, why is he being treated like a guilty man?”

“It’s more complicated than guilt or innocence. He is in no way guilty of anything the Winter Soldier did. But due to the gravity and number of offenses committed, and his physical and mental enhancements, he was still believed to pose a plausible potential threat to international security. The terms by which he is allowed to remain a free man amount to him being legally designated a weapon of mass destruction by the UN, and place responsibility for him and his actions entirely on us.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s monstrous,” Carol said, with rising indignation. “You think that’s fair to your friend? To let the UN call him a weapon and force him to live like a parolee forever?”

“I think that was the only way to keep my friend from being locked up in a cage like an animal, in a federal super-max prison floating in the middle of the goddamned ocean,” Steve replied curtly. “I had to fight them with everything I had to get this much for him.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she said, in a milder tone. “I didn’t mean to suggest you didn’t do everything you could.”

Steve’s expression softened. “I should apologize. Bucky is a sensitive issue for me. You just happened to catch some of the shrapnel.”

“I understand,” she smiled. “It speaks well of you that you’re so loyal to him.”

“He’s my best friend,” Steve said flatly. “He was there for me when I had nothing, and no one to turn to. To be anything less than loyal to him to the very end would be betrayal.”

“Sounds like you’re lucky to have each other. Not a lot of people have a friendship like that.”

“I’m lucky to have him. But I…I let him down. I’ll never be able to make amends for it.”

“Does he think you let him down?”

“No. That stubborn bastard blames himself for everything, no matter how much I try to convince him otherwise.”

“Something tells me he’s not the only stubborn bastard out of the two of you.”

“Yeah, well you’re not wrong.” Steve paused. “If you don’t mind my asking…why are you so interested in Bucky?”

“Interested?”

“You seem to want to know a lot about him.”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “I had my memory erased, too. I’ve never met anyone who could relate to that experience. Plus, I’ve never met a former brainwashed Soviet assassin with a cyborg arm. He’s pretty interesting.”

“You should talk to him,” Steve said, with an abysmal attempt at offhanded.

“Should I?” Carol asked, looking up at him.

“About your experiences, I mean. It might…you know. Be good. To talk.”

“Yeah, maybe. Why are you being so weird about it?”

“I’m not being weird.”

Carol gave him another one of those unnervingly perceptive looks. “You know, you’re right. I would like to talk to Sergeant Barnes. I think I’m going to ask him to have dinner with me tonight.”

“You should.”

“I will.”

“Do it, then.”

“I’m going to.”

“Good.”

“You want to come?”

“What? No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t…know. What is even happening right now?”

“I’m fucking with you and you’re making it really easy,” she grinned. “Natasha wants us all to go out somewhere tonight. You in?”

“Oh. Yes.”

 

 

 

 

 


	5. God Bless America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation Rocket Pop takes an unexpected detour.

 

 

 

 

“Weird how?” Natasha asked.

“Like…weird,” Carol replied, leaning over the table in a conspiratorial manner. “He asked why I was so interested in him, then he said I should talk to him about our memory stuff. But he said it the way people say things they hate and don’t want to say, you know?”

“I do know,” Natasha said musingly. “Hm. So, Steve thinks you’re into Bucky?”

“I’m not sure if he actually thinks I am, or if he’s just trying to make himself think that. I said I was going to ask Barnes out to dinner tonight, and he got all tough-guy, look-how-much-I-don’t-even-care about it. Which was pretty adorable, actually.”

“Hey, we’re supposed to be going out together,” Natasha pouted.

“We are!” Carol laughed. “I told him I was just fucking with him and that you wanted us all to go out somewhere tonight.”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “Wait. Danvers. You didn’t use the word ‘all’, did you? You said the four of us, right?”

“Uh…no, I think I said ‘all’. Why?”

“Oh god, this is all my fault. I didn’t sufficiently prepare you for Steve.”

Carol frowned. “What’s all your fault?”

“I’m sorry, but there is a close to zero chance that you said ‘all’ and he heard ‘the four of us’ and not ‘the entire team’.”

“What?” Carol laughed. “That’s ridiculous. We were talking about Barnes and you. He’d assume the four of us was implied, right?”

“You’d think. But Steve isn’t what I’d call…extremely alert to social cues. He’s always got his mind on the team, and he pretty much operates from the assumption that everyone else does, too. I almost guarantee you we’re going to find out—”

“Hey, Nat,” Steve’s voice broke in, as he approached their table. “Hey, Danvers. I just wanted to confirm a time for tonight.”

“A time?” Natasha asked warily.

“Yeah, so we can coordinate. Oh, and I wanted to make sure the activity you have in mind is something appropriate for Parker. He’s a minor.”

Natasha looked at Carol and gestured to Steve. “See?”

“Holy shit,” Carol said, shaking her head in amazement. “That’s literally exactly what you said he’d do.”

Steve’s expression shifted from affable to confused. “What’s exactly what she said I’d do?”

“Red was just telling me that you’d be right on top of getting the team coordinated,” Carol smiled. “I hope everyone’s excited for, uh…miniature golf.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Steve said, brightening again. “And Parker can definitely come. Perfect. Nat, you’re really taking the initiative to welcome Carol to the team. I’m impressed.”

“What can I say,” Natasha replied drily. “I’m a natural team-player.”

“We want to leave at seven,” Carol added. “Will that work?”

“Absolutely,” Steve nodded. “I’ll text everyone and let them know. See you guys later!”

They sat watching him walk away through the dining facility, then Natasha gave Carol a look.

“Mini golf? Seriously?”

“I had to come up with something on the spot!”

“And the first thing that popped into your head was a junior-high group outing? Operation Rocket Pop is doomed.”

“Hey, I happen to like mini golf. Going out with a group is actually a good way to do more recon, anyway. Gives us more cover to work from. And I bet wherever we’re going will have pizza, so dinner’s taken care of, too.”

Natasha gave a theatrical groan and dropped her head onto her crossed arms.

“Aw, it’ll be ok, Red,” Carol laughed, patting her back. “Eating pizza once won’t kill you.”

“But miniature golf. It’s so…wholesome and… _American_.”

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but most of us are American. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Ugh, fine, but I get to silently judge all of you in Russian.”

“Deal,” Carol grinned.

 

 

 

 

That evening, a little before seven, Natasha and Carol entered the lobby of the main building to find the young Mr. Parker, in company with Sergeant Barnes and Sam Wilson. Parker was in the act of relating some story in highly animated terms, to the amusement of his two elders.

Carol smiled to herself as she observed the three together. The two older men looked like stern, towering warriors beside their buoyant teenaged companion, but the affection they had for him was plain to see. As they made their greetings, Wanda and Vision (who could apparently alter his appearance to resemble a normal human) emerged from the elevator to join the group.

“Ok, where’s Rogers,” Natasha said, looking around. “He was supposed to be coordinating this thing so everyone has rides.”

“Well, my Escalade seats six passengers,” Sam put in. “I got Spiderkid, Mittens, and whoever else wants to ride in style.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, will you not?” Bucky sighed.

“Hey,” Sam said sharply. “Watch your mouth in front of the kid, Mittens.”

Carol’s face lit up with merriment. “Barnes is Mittens? Please explain this immediately.”

“Bird man thinks he’s funny,” Bucky said, still glowering at Sam.

“I think that because it’s true,” Sam grinned. “And don’t you think Captain Danvers should know your code name? In case shit goes down?”

“That’s not my code name,” Bucky retorted. “And you watch _your_ mouth in front of the kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” Parker interjected, standing as tall as he could and puffing out his chest.

At this, Bucky and Sam forgot their disagreement, burst into laughter, and immediately set about ruffling his hair and shaking him by the shoulders in a companionable fashion.

“Are you two picking on the kid again?” Steve said, eyeing them sternly as he came down the stairs.

“He was,” Bucky said, pointing to Sam.

“He started it,” Sam returned, pointing at Bucky.

“I’m not…a kid,” Parker attempted again, then gave a dejected sigh, as no one appeared to be listening.

“How are we divvying up rides, Cap?” Natasha asked Steve, as they walked out to the parking garage. “Falcon’s vehicle can hold seven, but there are eight of us.”

“I’ve got my bike,” Steve said cheerfully. “I don’t mind riding by myself.”

“No, it’s much too dangerous to go alone,” Carol said, with a sly smile. “I’ll ride with you.”

“Oh…ok,” Steve said. “So, Danvers with me and everyone else with Sam.”

“Shotgun,” Natasha and Bucky said in unison, then glared at each other.

“Nope. No calling shotgun,” Sam declared. “My car, my rules. Spiderkid, you’re copilot. Mindfreaks in the middle, Soviets in the back. And don’t get anything on my leather seats.”

“Ok, we’ll see you at the Castle Family Fun Center in about twenty minutes,” Steve said, nodding to Sam. “Let’s go Danvers.”

The two groups parted ways, with the larger headed down toward Sam’s vehicle, and Steve and Carol headed back up toward Steve’s motorcycle. Carol cast a sidelong glance at Steve, who had changed his stealth suit for jeans, a white t-shirt, and a brown-leather bomber jacket of his own, though of a different style to hers.

“Looking good, Rogers,” she said. “I like the jacket.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. “It’s not as cool as yours, but I do what I can.”

“I can’t believe we couple-matched, though. What will people think?”

“We’re not dressed…exactly the same,” Steve said, noting her similar jeans and t-shirt combination with a hint of embarrassment. “My shirt doesn’t have writing on it. What is ‘nin’, anyway?”

“Nine inch Nails.” 

Steve made a face. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s a band,” she laughed. “Wow, you’re old.”

“Goddamned kids and your music,” Steve grumbled.

“Pfft, the problem is you old people and your refusal to change. Can you and Parker even have a conversation?”

“Not really. He speaks a completely different language.” They stopped before a motorcycle and Steve drew out his keys. “This is us.”

“Nice bike,” Carol said, as Steve swung his leg over the saddle. “Hey, I’m not into Barnes.”

Steve blinked. “I—you’re…what?”

“I’m not interested in Sergeant Barnes in a romantic or sexual way,” Carol clarified. “I thought you should be aware of that.”

“You thought I should…why?” Steve frowned.

Carol cocked her head to the side and did that knowing squint thing that Steve was really beginning to be tired of.

“Ok,” she said, after a moment. “If you want to keep playing this game, we can.”

“What game?” he asked, spreading out his arms. “I am completely lost, here.”

“I know what’s going on with you, Rogers,” Carol said firmly. “It’s written all over your face, all the time. So, you can get it off your chest to someone who won’t breathe a word of it to a living soul, or you can keep suffering in silence and pretending it’s not slowly eating you alive from the inside. Your call.”

Steve’s jaw set and he looked down at the motorcycle’s instrument panel. “I don’t know what you mean, Captain Danvers.”

“Sure. Try that on someone who hasn’t been through the same thing.”

Steve stared silently at the speedometer.

“Let me just say this, then,” Carol said. “I had a close friend. A best friend. Over time, that closeness developed into deeper feelings. I never said anything, because I was afraid. Then, circumstances changed and life happened, and all the sudden it was too late. I carried those feelings with me for years and then in one second, it all just slipped away. So, whatever you think you’re waiting for, whatever you’re afraid of, it’s not worth losing your chance at something so precious. It’s not worth looking up one day and they’re just…gone. And you’ll never know what could’ve been if you hadn’t been a coward.”

“I’m not a coward,” Steve said quietly. “If there was a person like that, for me, I couldn’t put them through that. It would be selfish of me to force that knowledge on them, and to risk destroying our friendship for something else. It would be betrayal.”

“I respect that,” Carol said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Rogers. But I think you may be so focused on what was, that you’re not seeing the whole picture of what is. Now, cheer up, because it’s time to go have fun playing mini golf with the rest of the freaks and weirdos.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, shaking himself and clearing his throat. He took a breath, then smiled up at her. “Yeah, let’s go do some good old-fashioned American team-building.”

“That’s the spirit!” she laughed. “Go team!”

The bike roared to life as Carol climbed on behind Steve. She put her feet on the pegs and her hands on his hips, and they rode off after their friends.

 

 

 

 

“How are you taking up this much of the seat?” Bucky said, shoving Natasha with his shoulder. “You’re literally the size of a housecat.”

“I’m utilizing the available space, soldat,” Natasha replied. “It’s not my fault you’re in the way.”

“You are the most irritating human being alive.”

“I know. Move your arm, I’m trying to lean on you.”

“You better not have your shoes on my seat, Romanoff,” Sam called back, eyeing her suspiciously in the rearview.

“I took them off,” Natasha said sweetly. “I’m trying to use Barnes as a backrest, but he’s being a real pill about it.”

“She keeps wiggling around and jabbing me with her elbows!” Bucky huffed.

“God damn it you two, play nice,” Sam said. “Spiderkid, turn off that fuckin’ Ariana Grande bullshit before I throw your phone out the window. Maximoff, Vision…y’all are being too good. Kick up a fuss about something, or I’ll turn this car around.”

“Oh, um. I was going to say that, uh…” Vision began awkwardly, then paused. “Oh! Wanda has been turning her air conditioning vent toward me.”

“I thought you liked it,” Wanda pretended to pout. “You’re always saying you’re too warm.”

“I do like it, darling, I apologize,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hand. “I was only attempting to do as Mr. Wilson asked.”

“I know,” Wanda smiled. “You’re so good.”

“Oh my god, gross,” Natasha said, sticking out her tongue. “Get a room.”

“You get a room, miss sassy pants,” Wanda shot back, sticking out her tongue as well. “You and Sergeant Barnes are always touching each other. It’s ridiculous.”

“For the record, Sergeant Barnes is doing no such thing,” Bucky said. “Natechka just doesn’t have any boundaries and thinks I’m her personal furniture.”

“Aren’t you?” Natasha said, looking at him upside-down, as her head was lolling against his shoulder.

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Kind of.”

“Are the two of you romantically…involved, then?” Vision asked curiously.

“Gross,” Bucky and Natasha said in unison, both making disgusted faces.

“Ah, I see,” Wanda nodded.

“I don’t,” Vision said, turning back to her.

“They have a strong attachment to each other. Like brother and sister,” Wanda explained. Then she raised an eyebrow. “Only a little more affectionate than would be proper if they were related by blood.”

“Affectionate!” Natasha said indignantly. “I don’t even like him.”

“Yeah, we don’t even like each other,” Bucky agreed.

“Oh? Why is your arm around her?” Wanda asked.

“There could be a crash,” Bucky said deadpan. “You want me to just let her fly out the windshield?”

Wanda rolled her eyes and muttered something in her own language as she turned to face forward. Natasha said something back in Russian, Bucky shook his head, Sam laughed, and Parker looked appropriately bewildered. Within a few more minutes they were pulling into their destination, a huge, garishly colored replica castle, lit up like a carnival and teeming with what appeared to be suburban families.

“So, we’re in hell,” Bucky said, as they climbed out of the vehicle. “We died on the road and this is hell.”

“Seriously,” Natasha said. “Thank your pals Danvers and Rogers for this one.”

Bucky stood there looking dismal as she helped him pull on a black glove over his cybernetic hand, then they started across the parking lot.

“I think it looks like fun,” Wanda said, smiling brightly. “So many happy people with little children. Ooh, there is a snow cone stand!”

“I’ll get you a snow cone, my dear,” Vision said. “What…is a snow cone?”

“Pretty much the best thing ever,” Parker answered excitedly. “They put shaved ice in this paper thing and you get to pick all kinds of flavors and they pour it on the ice, and…I mean. You know. I liked them when I was a kid.”

“Where’s Cap and Cap?” Sam asked. “They should’ve been right behind us.”

“I’m sure they are,” Natasha said. “Let’s wait by the—oh, speak of the devils.”

The group waved as Steve’s motorcycle rumbled into the parking lot. He pulled into a space a little way from where they stood, and Carol immediately hopped off.

“Hey, kids,” she called to them. “Guess who drives like a grandpa!”

“Oh! I guess Captain Rogers!” Parker offered.

“Correct, Spiderkid,” Carol replied. “If we went any slower, the bike would’ve tipped over.”

“Posted speed limits are not a joke,” Steve said, stepping up to join them. “They are there for your safety and that of other drivers.”

“Said the guy not wearing a helmet,” Natasha retorted.

“I don’t need a helmet, Romanoff. But I better not catch any of you non-augmented humans riding without one.”

Sam looked around at the others. “You realize that’s just me, right Cap?”

“Safety first, Sam,” Steve grinned.

“I’ll safety first you,” Sam muttered, as the group turned toward the entrance. “See if I catch your heavy ass next time you jump off some high-up shit, you crazy motherf—”

“What was that?”

“Hm? Nothing. God bless America.”

 

 

 

 


	6. The Dragon's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Top-Gun's espionage efforts continue on the golf course.

 

 

 

 

“Ok, everyone, let’s review the rules on our score cards,” Steve said, addressing the group, which elicited several groans and a giggle from Wanda. “Deal with it. Rule one. Six stroke limit per hole. Yeah, that’s very funny, guys. Grow up. Two. Where there are two cups, shoot for either one. Three. As a courtesy to others, only five players are allowed per group. Four. Everyone in the group—”

“Hang on, Cap,” Carol interrupted. “There are eight of us. We can’t set a bad example for the kids by breaking the rules.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I guess that means we’re playing teams. Captain versus Captain, lowest combined score wins?”

“You’re on. How should we divide the teams?”

“Carol’s team!” Natasha called out, from where she was standing beside Bucky.

“No calling teams,” Steve said. “We’re doing this fair and flipping coins. Does…anyone have a coin?”

“I do, Captain Rogers!” Parker said, digging a quarter from his jeans pocket and tossing it to Steve.

“Thanks, Parker. Let’s go alphabetically. Barnes. Heads, you’re with Captain Danvers, tails, you’re with me.” Steve flipped the coin into the air and caught it on his wrist. “Heads. Barnes, you’re with Danvers. Maximoff, tails. You’re with me. Parker, tails. Romanoff, heads. Vision, heads. And Wilson, you default to me.”

“Man, default,” Sam said, rubbing his hands together. “Gotta love that default.”

“Come on, Sam, it was alphabetical. You know I would’ve picked you anyway.”

“Not if you wanted to win, you wouldn’t,” Sam grinned. “I’m really bad at golf.”

Natasha linked her arm into Bucky’s. “Come on, soldat. Let’s kick these Americans’ asses.”

“You know I’m American, right?” Bucky smirked, as she pulled him toward Carol.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’ve got my eye on you, Maximoff! No psychic shenanigans!”

“Ok, Team Marvel,” Carol said, gathering the other three into a huddle. “Here’s our strategy. Get the balls into the holes in fewer shots than they do. If we do that, victory is assured.”

“I feel so inspired,” Natasha said, laying a hand on her heart. “Danvers, you’re a born leader.”

Carol tossed her blonde hair. “Thank you, I like to think so. Who’s keeping score for our team?”

“I would be delighted to keep score,” Vision said affably, accepting the card and pencil from Carol.

Carol pretended to watch him write down their names, but her attention was on a situation in her peripheral. She saw Natasha stand tiptoe and whisper something to Sergeant Barnes, who laughed and elbowed her playfully. More importantly, she saw Steve see this.

He kept right on looking cheerful and talking to Wanda, but her training and years of experience in high-tension combat situations had made her adept at reading the most minute microexpressions. A useful tool for predicting an opponent’s next move, as well as analyzing what was passing in another person’s mind.

She felt a little pang for the look of calm acceptance on his face, though it flickered there for the barest fraction of a second. Poor Rogers. She made a mental note to debrief with Team Top-Gun ASAP, as the groups made their way to the first putting green.

“Who’s going first?” she asked Steve.

“You’re our guest,” he said politely, gesturing to the green. “After you.”

Team Marvel stepped up, and Team America hung back, offering hearty encouragement (but mostly trying to create distractions), as Team Marvel made their strokes. As per the rules, Team Marvel moved to the next green when they were finished, leaving Team America to play their round in relative peace.

Thus, the teams were split apart for the majority of the golf portion of the evening, which did little to aid Operation Rocket Pop, but did provide a fair quantity of amusement and laughter for everyone involved, which was almost as good.

The Dragon’s Den green, complete with a mechanical dragon that breathed actual fire, was the ultimate hole on the course. It was also situated in a winding tunnel, low-lit and painted to resemble a dark cave, making it an ideal place for talking spy business.

“Hey, Red,” Carol whispered, while Sergeant Barnes was lining up his putt. “We gotta talk. Operation Rocket Pop stuff.”

Natasha nodded conspiratorially and looked about, then pulled Carol around a corner into a dark alcove.

“Ok, Agent Danvers, we’ve got about sixty seconds,” she said in a dramatic undertone.

“Our primary target is a proving to be a pretty slippery customer,” Carol replied, sounding very espionage-esque. “I’m not getting anywhere with him. You think you could try your luck for a while and leave the secondary target to me?”

“Absolutely,” Natasha nodded. “The secondary target is being a grouch right now, anyway. He’ll have to be nice to you, though, so it works out perfectly.”

“Thanks, boss,” Carol said, giving her a jaunty salute. “I knew I could count on you to pick up the spy slack.”

Natasha returned the salute. “Anything for Team Top-Gun.”

They returned to the group as Barnes was stepping away from the green, and Vision was congratulating him on having made the most difficult hole on the course in one stroke.

“Yeah, thanks,” Bucky said drily. “I knew getting turned into a lab rat by the Nazis would pay off one day.”

“Wow, he is kind of grouchy,” Carol whispered to Natasha.

“He gets this way sometimes,” Natasha whispered back. “Also, he can probably hear us.”

“He can definitely hear you,” Bucky said, glancing at them over his shoulder. “You’re up, Natechka. Try to shoot straight for once.”

Natasha crossed to the green, holding up her middle finger behind her back as she passed him.

“Hey, do I need to separate you two?” Carol asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, please,” Natasha chimed. “He’s sucking all the fun out of the place like a black hole.”

“I’m standing here minding my own business,” Bucky retorted. “You just don’t want me to see you fuck up such an easy shot.”

Natasha turned and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Why don’t we return our clubs, Barnes,” Carol offered. “We’re done with our rounds anyway.”

To Carol’s surprise, Bucky simply turned and strode out of the tunnel. She gave Natasha a thumbs-up and trotted off after him.

She found him waiting outside, and they went together to return their clubs, then he followed her away to the concessions area, all without a word. She had previously observed that he seemed to prefer silence, and figured that her ability to stand it a lot longer than most people might be a relief to him.

She inspected the concessions on offer, picked a funnel-cake stand, and they stood in the line. When they got to the counter, she ordered two funnel cakes, handed one to Barnes without asking if he wanted it or not, and looked over to assess the nearby picnic tables. The tables were rather crowded, and there seemed to be a higher than strictly-prudent ratio of boisterous children to responsible adults, which was not ideal.

Another idea occurred to her. She pivoted and they backtracked to the large, replica castle, which formed the main structure of the family fun center, and contained the advertised video arcade and paintball arenas. In the tall hedges surrounding the castle, she found a gate marked ‘Employees Only’. Barnes popped the lock and they slipped behind the place to the back parking lot, where the loading docks and service entrance were located.

She glanced around to ensure the coast was clear, then beckoned to Barnes. As he stepped closer, she hooked an arm about his waist, flashed him a rakish grin, and leapt into the air.

His body jolted and he threw his arms around her instinctively, heart pounding as they soared in a rapid, smooth arc to alight atop the building, beside one of the crenellated towers of painted plywood. She released her hold on his waist and smiled up at him.

“Holy shit,” he said, staring at her wide-eyed. “You can fly.”

“I can?” she gasped. “I thought that was you!”

His astounded expression dissolved into a smirk. “Wow, Danvers. You are a fucking dork.”

“That’s true, but if you tell anyone, I’ll take you up real high and drop you. Come on. Let’s sit by the edge of the roof and people-watch.”

He followed her to a spot in the shadow cast by the tower, and they sat cross-legged, eating their rather greasy treats, and idly watching the clusters of people milling about the golf course and concessions.

“Thanks for the funnel cake,” he said, as he crumpled up the red and white checked paper. “And the escape. I don’t do well in crowds.”

“No problem. I could tell you were getting overloaded.”

“You’ve been around PTSD cases before.”

“Yep.”

“You’re still a terrible spy,” he said, after another long silence. “What are you up to?”

She arched an eyebrow. “If I told you, I’d be an even worse spy. Hey, look, there’s Team America. They’re finally done with the Dragon’s Den.”

“I think we won.”

“I think you’re right.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

“Ok. Why have you been watching me and asking about me? And why did you bring me up here?”

“Cause you’re sad and I want to help.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want to be interfered with.”

She cocked her head to one side. “You don’t have a lot of friends, do you.”

“No.”

“Because you’re afraid of people?”

“Because people are afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

He eyed her cagily. “I don’t think you’re afraid of much.”

“Correct,” she smiled. “And you’re not afraid of me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not an ideologue and you don’t have an agenda,” he shrugged. “You say what you mean and you do what you say.”

“Also correct. You’re pretty sharp, Barnes.”

“I know.”

“So, why are you so stupid about the most important thing you have?”

“I don’t…have anything. What do you mean?”

“You love someone. That’s something.”

“I’m not in love with Natasha,” he said irritably. “People think that because they don’t understand us.”

“Natasha? Wow, I retract my comment about you being sharp.”

He looked frankly bewildered. “There’s no one else you could be talking about.”

She sighed and patted his shoulder. “Well, at least you’re pretty.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m scary,” he said, putting on his fiercest Winter Soldier scowl.

This only made her laugh, so he gave it up and went back to looking out over the brightly-lit fun center and its throng of patrons.

“You know what the worst feeling in the world is?” she asked, after a moment.

“Your body seizing so hard your spine almost cracks during electro-shock torture.”

“You know what the second-worst feeling in the world is?”

“I dunno, regret?”

“Exactly. I reinstate my comment regarding your sharpness.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a lot of experience with the worst feelings in the world.”

“I know. And the fact that you’re still standing after everything you’ve been through is a testament to how strong you are.”

“I’m not strong,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I couldn’t even fight back. They wanted to break me and they did. And this is the way I am now. Broken. I’ll never be not broken again.”

“Why are you still fighting, then? Wouldn’t it be easier to just…let go?”

“Never,” he said flatly. “As long as Steve is here, I’m here with him. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s what I mean,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “You are broken, Barnes. You’ve been beaten down so hard for so long. Another man would’ve been destroyed way before now. But not you. You got back up. You put your loyalty to your friend before your own suffering, and you’re fighting the good fight because he needs you. Because he’d be lost without you, and you know it. Even if you won’t admit it.”

Bucky turned away to conceal the emotion in his face. “Why are—why are you doing this?”

“Because…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Because before I met you, I thought I’d had so much stolen from me. But what was taken from you was so many orders of magnitude more, I can’t even begin to imagine it. And yet, here you are. Still standing. For your friend’s sake. So don’t give me that ‘I’m not strong’ bullshit. You might be the strongest man I’ve ever met. And not to brag, but I’ve met Thor.”

“God damn it, Danvers,” he laughed, dashing away a tear he had failed to prevent rolling down his cheek. “I had a whole wasting away in my misery thing that was going fine. Can’t you just mind your own business and let me do that?”

“Nope. Cause it ain’t all about you, Bucko. Which is your name now.”

“It is absolutely not.”

“Hush, Bucko, listen. I need to say this one thing. You’ve had so much of your life stolen from you. Don’t throw the rest of it away. Yours won’t be the only life wasted if you do.”

He looked down at his gloved cybernetic hand, clenching it into a fist and splaying out the fingers again. “That sounds great on paper, but…you don’t know what you’re asking me to do. I could lose everything.”

“Everyone could always lose everything,” she said, hopping to her feet. “That’s what makes having anything worthwhile.”

“You just have all the answers, don’t you,” he said sardonically, as she took his hand and pulled him up. “Jesus Christ, you’re strong.”

“All the better to bully Steve,” she grinned. “Speaking of which, we should get back before he thinks I’ve kidnapped you and made you my bride.”

“Pfft. I’d like to see you try. I’m way too dangerous. And heavily-armed.”

“Oh yeah, I was gonna ask you how much that thing weighs.”

“Oh…my god,” he said, throwing his hands up in astonishment as she burst into laughter. “And now you’re laughing. You’re laughing at your own terrible joke.”

“It’s the face you’re making,” she said, laughing harder. “You’re so offended!”

“I’m offended because that joke was a literal war crime. You’re a war criminal, Danvers.” He paused. “I mean, technically, so am I. And so is Steve. And Natasha…you know, nevermind. You’re in good company.”

“I think I am,” she smiled. “Now come here, my abducted bride. Let me carry you away to our life of matrimonial bliss.”

Before he could react, she had taken hold of him and swept him up in her arms, supporting his large, athletically built body with no apparent effort, despite her comparatively small, slight frame.

“What are you doing!” he exclaimed, struggling ineffectually against her impossible strength. “This is ridiculous, put me down!”

“I’ll put you down when we land,” she said patiently, walking to the rear parking lot side of the building. “Stop kicking, you’re making yourself look silly.”

“I’m making—I’m a grown man and you’re carrying me like a baby!”

“You sure are whining about it like a baby. Settle down. We’ll be on the ground in a sec.”

With that, she stepped off the ledge and sailed downward, to land lightly on her feet on the asphalt below.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it,” she chirped. “Let’s go find everyone.”

“Ok, ha ha ha, I get it,” he said, as she began to stride across the parking lot. “Come on, put me down.”

She squinted thoughtfully. “Hm. I’d really like to, but…you’re so cuddly. I feel like I’m holding a big cat. I might hang on to you for a while.”

“Ugh. This is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Hey, Captain Danvers! Hey, Mr. Barnes!” Parker’s voice rang out, from the gate where they’d come in. “Captain Rogers sent me to find you. Oh, no! Is Mr. Barnes hurt?”

“Hey, Spiderkid,” Carol said cheerfully. “Nope, he’s just lazy. He insisted I carry him around like this.”

“I did no such thing! Put me down before someone else sees!”

“Hey, Parker did you—”

Sam stopped short as he stepped in through the gate, then calmly drew out his phone and snapped a photo.

“My Instagram followers and I can’t thank you enough for this, Captain Danvers,” he said solemnly to Carol. “You’re a great American hero, ma’am.”

“I’ll fucking kill you, bird!” Bucky shouted, struggling in Carol’s arms to no discernible effect. “Give me that fucking phone!”

“Language, Mittens!” Sam shouted back, as he disappeared through the gate again. “Hey, Cap, we found ‘em!”

Carol grinned at her captive. “You were saying? About the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“I said humiliating,” Bucky grumbled, as he was set on his feet at last. “Steve was right about you, Danvers. You’re a big mean bully.”

“Maybe it’s time I accept that about myself,” she said, biting her lip musingly. “But hey, at least people won’t be so afraid of you now.”

“Yeah, well—wait, do you really think they won’t?”

“I guess we’ll find out. So, can I buy you a drink to make it up to you?”

“No. But seven or eight ought to do it.”

“Ooh, drinking contest!” Carol exclaimed, then paused. “Can you even get drunk?”

“I cannot. But I do like to pretend.”

“You’re on, then. I’ll drink you under the pretend table, Bucko!”

“There is way too much testosterone around here,” Bucky sighed, following her out the gate. “Fucking superheroes.”

 

 

 

 


	7. Bayushki-bayu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve learns about Instagram, pizza crimes are committed, and the winner of the mini-golf showdown is announced.

 

 

 

 

“You guys realize this is a family place and there’s no alcohol, right?” Steve asked.

“We…may not have been as aware of that as we may have liked,” Carol said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a drinking contest.”

“I think it does.”

“No, it just means we can’t have one here.”

“Hey, who added pineapple to my pizza!” Sam called out, from the end of the table. “Mittens, I’m looking at you!”

“That’ll teach you to Instagram me without my consent,” Bucky retorted. “Have fun picking that shit off, bird.”

“Yeah, you really got me,” Sam said. “Not like there’s three other pizzas coming.”

“I added pineapple to all of them.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You’re a sick son of a bitch, Mittens.”

“Ok guys, what’s going on,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “Why are pizzas being vandalized?”

“I’m…having an episode,” Bucky said. “The Winter Soldier did it.”

“Oh, you didn’t see?” Sam grinned. “Check my Instagram, Cap.”

“I don’t—how do I do that? Can I see it on my phone?”

“No. No. It’s nothing,” Bucky said hastily, trying to grab his phone. “He’s playing a prank on you.”

Steve held it away. “Parker, help me out?”

“Sure, Captain Rogers,” Parker said, hopping up from his seat. “Ok, do you have an Instagram account?”

“How would I know?”

“Well, you’d have to have downloaded the app and…you know, I could just do it for you.”

“Thanks, Parker,” Steve smiled, handing his phone to his teenaged colleague.

“Yeah, Parker,” Bucky said menacingly. “Remind me to thank you properly later.”

“Buck, don’t make vague threats to children,” Steve admonished.

“Especially ones who can kick your ass,” Sam added.

“I’m not a child,” Parker insisted.

“Hey, you’re not off the hook for the pineapple crime,” Steve said to Bucky. “Go put in an order for new pizzas.”

Bucky muttered something in Russian and stalked off toward the diner-style counter where orders were placed.

“I like pineapple,” Wanda said cheerfully. “What’s wrong with eating it on pizza?”

Natasha made a face. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. What?”

“Have you ever had pineapple on pizza?”

“Well, no. But pizza is good and pineapple is good. How bad could it be?” Wanda lifted a slice and took a bite to test her theory, then her expression changed and she covered her mouth with a napkin. “Oh, god, how has this flavor even occurred? It doesn’t seem possible.”

“Told you,” Natasha smirked. “Rogers, are you actually eating that?”

Steve looked up, chewing a bite of the offending pizza. “We ordered it. If someone doesn’t eat it, it’s a waste.”

“There’s no food rationing now, grandpa,” Natasha laughed. “I think we’ll be ok.”

“There are starving children all over the world, Nat.”

“Eating something you hate doesn’t help them, Steve.”

“I don’t really hate it,” Steve shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”

“I like it,” Carol said, taking another bite of her own. “It reminds me of this stew they make on Xandar with slig intestines and akarso root.”

She and Steve smiled at each other across the table as they each took another slice.

“Oh my god, they’re merging,” Natasha groaned. “The Captains are becoming one exasperatingly upbeat super-being.”

“Half Rogers, half Danvers sounds pretty good,” Wanda laughed. “You two would have beautiful babies. They would be very tall and blonde, and they would love freedom and justice.”

“Babies,” Steve frowned, with his mouth full of pizza. “What, and ruin my figure?”

“I’ll be damned if I’m hanging around after he lets himself go.” Carol added. “I’m only in it for that ass.”

Steve gasped and clutched his heart. “How dare you!”

“I’m sorry, are we all just going to ignore the phrase ‘slig intestines’?” Sam interjected. “Cause someone here just said those words out loud, and I have questions.”

“It’s a livestock animal that is exactly what it sounds like, Wilson,” Carol said. “Yeah, don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

“All done, Captain Rogers,” Parker said, handing Steve his phone. “You’re set up and logged in, and I followed Mr. Wilson for you.”

“Thanks, kid,” Steve smiled. He looked down at the screen and blinked. After a moment, he continued to blink. “Hey, Parker…what does this mean?”

“That’s people following your account. You’ve got three hundred so far.”

“Since you made it sixty seconds ago?”

“Yeah, but it’ll probably pick up when you have some pictures on there.”

“I don’t know if I want strangers looking at my personal photographs.”

Parker looked confused. “Why not?”

“Wait, what’s this?” Steve asked. “Liked by CaptainAmerica and 18,279 others.”

“That’s Mr. Wilson’s latest post. CaptainAmerica is you, and I tapped the heart thing for you, which means you liked it. And so did eighteen-thousand two-hundred and seventy-nine other people.”

“Huh.”

Steve sat looking at the photo for a moment, which showed Bucky glaring fiercely into the camera, with his long hair hanging wildly about his face. He was being carried in Carol’s arms, but her head and most of her body were obscured by his, making the identity of the person holding him a matter of energetic speculation in the comments section. The majority opinion seemed to be strongly in favor of Captain America.

“Oh hey, Buck,” he said, as his friend returned to the table. “So, question. Do I have to treat you differently now? You know, since you’re famous?”

“That’s funny,” Bucky said, setting the two pineapple-free pizzas on the table. “You’re a real funny guy, Rogers.”

“No, I’m serious,” Steve laughed. “Just look at all the things your fans have to say. ‘OMG so cute!’ and ‘Babe’ and…this one is just a bunch of hearts. Oh, ‘Marry me Bucky’, that’s a good one. Actually, there are a lot of those. ‘He can buck me anytime’. Wow. Inappropriate. Sam, you have some rowdy followers.”

“They’re thirsty for that Winter Soldier, man,” Sam shrugged. “He’s got the sexy assassin vibe going.”

“Thirsty?” Steve asked. “Is that as gross as it sounds?”

“Sexy assassin,” Bucky said, with a curl of his lip. “There is nothing sexy about being an assassin.”

“Wrong,” Natasha chirped.

“You are wrong,” Wanda agreed.

“Yeah, I’m with them,” Carol said. “People can’t resist a bad-boy in black.”

“Oh, remember the, uh…the thing with all the leather straps,” Wanda said gesturing to her torso. “What is the word?”

“Corset,” Natasha said helpfully.

“Yes, the corset! That was very sexy.”

“It was not a corset, it was combat armor,” Bucky said. “And it was not sexy.”

“Uh, yeah it was,” Natasha said.

“It was,” Wanda nodded.

“It really was,” Sam put in. “What? You’re a sexy man. Own it, Mittens!”

“I think I’m gonna have to call a vote,” Carol said. “Who agrees that Sergeant Barnes is sexy? Parker, put your hand down, you’re underage. One, two, three…that’s six in favor, all grown-up precincts reporting. The people have spoken, Bucko.”

“You’re all out of your fucking minds,” Bucky sighed, slumping into a chair. “I work with a bunch of unhinged lunatics.”

“Well, the internet agrees,” Steve said, looking down at his phone. “This one says ‘Weapon of mass seduction.’ That’s clever. And…weird.”

“Alright, that’s enough Instagram for you, old man,” Natasha interjected. “Who won the mini-golf battle of the bands? We’ve all been waiting to find out.”

“I gave our card to Vision,” Steve said. “He’s going to announce the winner once we’ve got our food and everyone is settled.”

“Looks pretty settled,” Carol said, glancing around. “Let’s have it, Vision.”

“Ah, yes,” Vision said, rising to his feet. He drew out the cards and held them up. “In the first annual Avengers Miniature Golf Championship, the results are…Team America, with one-hundred and six strokes, and Team Marvel, with one-hundred and nine. Team America wins!”

The table erupted in cheers and boos and general laughter, as Vision handed the scorecards to the respective Captains and returned to his seat.

Steve stood and nodded to the group. “Good work, Team America. Team Marvel, it was an honor to compete with you. But I think we can all agree that the better team won.”

“Oh, ouch, Rocket Pop!” Carol laughed. “Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is,” Steve grinned, sitting back down.

“I’d just like to say to Team Marvel,” Carol said, rising in turn. “There’s no shame in losing to Team America—by three strokes, I’d like to point out. We did our best, but in the end, they had the superior skills. So, another round of applause for Team America, who really know how to stroke their balls.”

“Nice, Danvers,” Steve said, over the applause and laughter. “Setting a wonderful example for the kids.”

“I do my best. You gonna finish that pineapple pizza?”

 

 

 

 

“Ugh, if I never see a golf ball or a pizza again, it’ll be too soon,” Natasha yawned, stretching her arms as she and Carol walked back toward the residential building. “Looks like Team Top-Gun’s first away mission didn’t accomplish much, either. Boo.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Carol said thoughtfully. “I think I made a little headway with Barnes. You make any progress with Rogers?”

“Not really. He was busy Captaining all night and I couldn’t talk to him alone. What did Barnes say?”

“Well, he mentioned something I wanted to ask you about, if that’s ok.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“He said people think the two of you are romantic with each other, but it’s because they don’t understand you. I didn’t think that, but he assumed I did. Does that happen a lot?”

“Kind of,” Natasha shrugged. “I mean, most people don’t open their mouths one way or another around two of the most infamous assassins in the world, but our coworkers make comments sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” Carol said. “It sucks when people make assumptions like that.”

“It doesn’t really bother me. They don’t know what they’re talking about, and I’m not going to change the way I interact with him based on their ignorance. He’s way too important to me.”

“I can tell. You’re important to him, too.”

“There was a time when…all we had was each other. We were trapped in a world where we were nothing but disposable commodities, to be used until our value was depleted, and then discarded. We helped each other survive. That kind of bond doesn’t just go away.”

“That’s an incredibly valuable thing,” Carol said. “You know, the more I learn about you people, the more clear it is how much you care about each other, and how much more you are than just colleagues. I’ve never been part of team that was bonded so strongly. It must feel good to know you have each other’s backs, no matter what.”

“It does. I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but there’s no one here I wouldn’t take a bullet for. Except they’d probably try to knock me out of the way and take it themselves.”

“Especially Rogers,” Carol laughed. “He doesn’t seem like the type to shy away from any opportunity to be shot.”

“That is correct. Steve is a human shield, in addition to carrying one around. You know, before his augmentations, during training, an instructor tossed a grenade into the middle of the squad. Steve threw himself onto it and yelled for everyone to get away. It turned out it was a dummy grenade, but he didn’t know that. He was already willing to give his life, without any hesitation, to save other people. That’s why they took a skinny asthmatic kid with a bad spine and made him Captain America. Because that’s who he already was inside.”

“Wow. I guess that’s why everyone’s a little in love with him.”

“Except you.”

“Yes, but I’ve developed a feeling of general camaraderie for him, which is pretty good for me.”

“Ah,” Natasha said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re one of those lone-wolf, ‘I can’t be tamed, so don’t even try’ types.”

“I was. I have been for a long time. But you know what sucks about being a lone wolf?”

“What’s that?”

“You’re alone all the time.”

“Well, there’s an easy solution to that. Stay here with us, and hang out with me every day. Then you won’t be alone any of the time, and I can pester you about how there’s nothing to do in upstate New York, and borrow all your cool clothes without asking.”

“That’s a pretty tempting offer, Red,” Carol said, smiling slyly. “I’ll keep it in mind. So, what’s on the agenda for Operation Rocket Pop tomorrow?”

“You know, I was thinking. We’ve tilled a lot of ground. Maybe we should take a day or two to see what germinates before we move ahead to the next phase. It’s always wise to use a light touch, when you can.”

“You’re right, boss. Also, we deserve a day off. We’ve been working ourselves to exhaustion on this mission for like, two whole days now. What are we, pack mules?”

“Agent Danvers, I absolutely insist we take a day off tomorrow. We have more than earned it.”

“Excellent. What do you want to do with our vacation time? Travel?”

“Well, technically I’m on duty for my less important job tomorrow, so no dice on the traveling. But you could hang out in the Command Center with me till lunch time. We can retask the spy satellites to confuse the intel guys. It’s pretty funny.”

“Sounds good,” Carol grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early, boss.”

“Night, Agent Danvers,” Natasha laughed. “See you tomorrow.”

She shut her door behind her and kicked off her shoes, set the kettle, and then went to change into the black tank top and yoga pants she wore as pajamas. The kettle whistled while she was washing her face, and she went to get it, pulling her long hair up into a ponytail as she trotted into the kitchen.

She had just sat down with her cup of tea, when there was a knock at her door. She opened it to find Bucky, leaning heavily against the door frame, with his dark hair in disarray. He blinked up at her from hazy, unfocused eyes, and she saw that his face was ash-white.

“Bad?” she asked, putting her arm around him to support him, as he stumbled inside.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Feels like…tearing. Tearing apart.”

“I know it feels like that, but it’s not, I promise,” she said firmly. “It’s just your nerves misfiring.”

She guided him to the sofa and he fell facedown into it, with a low groan.

“Soldat, poslushay menya,” she said, kneeling beside the sofa. “You have to take off your shirt, do you understand?”

“Ya ne mogu,” he panted, turning his head to face her. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“I’m going to cut it off, then, ok?”

“Da, da, otrezh´.”

She hurried into the kitchen for a pair of shears, then came back to kneel beside him again.

“Hold still,” she said. “I don’t want to cut you.”

She lifted the sleeve of the black t-shirt from the titanium surface of the arm and clipped through it to the neckband, then down to the bottom hem. She set down the shears and peeled the black fabric away, exposing the ugly spiderweb of scar tissue, emanating from seam where the prosthetic met the flesh. He jerked and gasped as she lifted the heavy, metal arm and hung it about her shoulders.

“Hush, it’s ok,” she said soothingly. “I’ve got you, soldat.”

She put her fingertips on the scarred tissue and found the right spots, then began to apply pressure. He buried his face in the sofa cushions to muffle hoarse cries of pain, his body racking as she worked her fingers into the mangled nerve fibers.

“ _Sim uznayesh, budit vremya_ ,” she began to sing softly. “ _Brannoye zhityo, smyelo vdyenish nogu v stremya i vazmyosh ruzhyo. Ya sedeltse boyevoye sholkom razoshyu. Spi, ditya mayo radnoye, Bayushki-bayu.”_

Gradually, his muscles unwound and ceased shaking, and his ragged breathing slowed and became regular. He turned his head heavily on the cushion, and looked at her again.

“I’m sorry. I keep doing this to you.”

“You know I want to help you,” she said, brushing his hair out of his face. “If you apologize one more time, I won’t do it anymore.”

“Thank you, Natechka,” he said, managing a smile. “You’re the best annoying kid sister ever.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt from the Cossack Lullabye
> 
>  
> 
> The time will come when you will learn
> 
> The soldier’s way of life,
> 
> Boldly you’ll place your foot into the stirrup
> 
> And take the gun.
> 
> The saddle-cloth for your battle horse
> 
> I will sew for you from silk.
> 
> Sleep now, my dear little child,
> 
> Bayushki-bayu.


End file.
